


The Bed Song

by FrogFacey



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Based on an Amanda Palmer song, Because who doesn't love melodramatic Ryden?, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 17:06:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11582445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrogFacey/pseuds/FrogFacey
Summary: "She’d taken a tiny fragment of my life and made it into something else, a story about a couple, from joy to death, exhibited, as in a legal case or at an inquest, as a sequence of beds."-Neil Gaiman on the writing of The Bed Song





	The Bed Song

_Exhibit A._

Couch surfing wasn’t glamorous, it wasn’t the clean-cut life that Brendon had dreamed of, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He and Ryan had a single car they used to travel, using the money they earned from busking and Ryan’s occasional allowance to buy fuel and food. Occasionally they’d have to sleep in the the car if there was no one to take them in. Ryan would curl up in the backseat with a sheet and Brendon would fall asleep sitting by the wheel.

But thankfully they wouldn’t have to do that tonight, Ryan had found a place.

Brendon didn’t know the owner of the house, but Ryan did. They had been friends during high school, Ryan had kept in contact with him and he’d offered them a place to stay.

Brendon knocked on the door, ignoring the pain in his chilly fingers. Ryan’s arm was wrapped around his waist, his gloved hand rubbing his side. He watched his breath come out in small clouds as they waited for the man to open the door.

“Spencer!” Ryan cried happily when they were met with a bearded man standing at the door with a friendly smile.

“Ryan!” he opened his arms and Ryan let go of Brendon immediately, wrapping his arms around the other with more energy than Brendon had ever seen from him. 

Brendon’s face stung as they were lead inside, the cold melting away quickly as they entered the living room.

“Sorry about the noise, it’s my wife’s birthday today.” Spencer blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, “Probably should have told you.”

“It’s fine.” Brendon said, and it was fine because Brendon loved parties, “As long as we’re allowed a drink too?”

Ryan hit his arm, but Spencer didn’t seem to care, “What do you want?”

Brendon didn’t really remember much after that, aside from everyone taking turns to slur out a song on the ukulele and the woman with the pet rat which was apparently quite funny to Ryan because he wouldn't stop laughing even after she’d left.

Spencer had shown them to where they were sleeping, “Sorry it’s not much, relatives are over and someone’s already sleeping on the couch.”

It wasn’t flashy, they had a sleeping bag each, but Brendon had offered to share, either to cuddle or for more heat, he didn’t care.

They’d blocked out the sounds of the party going on upstairs with a couch cushion, the only other pillow they had was dirty and thin and wasn’t all that comfortable.

“Goodnight babe.” Brendon whispered, kissing Ryan’s head softly.

“Night.” Ryan mumbled back, leaning back against Brendon and pulling the sleeping bag up to his shoulder.

They fell asleep easily, Brendon being soothed by the sounds of Ryan’s soft snoring and the muffled laughter still going on upstairs. 

 

_Exhibit B._

“We got the house! Ryan we got the house!”

Brendon stood at the door of the apartment, if could even be called a door. It looked like someone had taken a small tabletop and pushed it up against the wall and called it a day. 

He was vaguely aware of Ryan’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

“At least it’s better than sleeping in a car right?” Ryan chuckled, but he sounded almost sad.

“Yeah. We’ve got to thank Jon for this.” Brendon said as he opened the door.

Apparently the last tenants had left their furniture there, since the apartment was already filled with stuff. There was an old box TV on a milk crate and a duct taped up lamp. There wasn’t a lot of room to move around, everything was everywhere and you could barely see the floor.

“What exactly did Jon do?” Ryan asked, stepping over a milk crate to dump his bag down on the mattress on the floor.

“He was the one that found this place.” Brendon sat down on one of the milk crates, ignoring how uncomfortable it was. Sure the apartment was crowded and dirty and honestly not all that nice, but it was a place to call their own.

“I think I’m cancelling my friendship with Jon.” Ryan crossed his arms and poked the sheets with his foot. “Ew, they’re stained.”

“What do you think it is?” Brendon asked, clambering over objects to take a look, “If it’s jizz I’m going to puke.”

Ryan hummed and sat down, “I’m pretty sure if you tried to have sex they’ll hear you through the walls _and_ floor.”

Brendon chuckled, but he sounded sad too.

He sat down next to Ryan, though he didn’t sit as close as he would have liked. 

“What’s the time?” Brendon asked, fiddling with his hands.

From the corner of his eye he saw Ryan look up at the clock on the wall. “Nearly eight, maybe? I don’t know if the clock’s correct.”

Brendon nodded and placed his hands down flat on his knees“Is there anything we need to take inside?” 

Ryan shook his head, “Nothing that we can’t replace.”

He nodded once and looked over at Ryan, he put on a smile and said, “I’m probably going to bed then.”

“Already?”

He hummed and Ryan picked up his bag, moving it to sit on the one chair in the whole place. 

“You know what? Me too.” Ryan said, and as if to prove his point he yawned.

Brendon walked to the doorway and looked back at the bed, partly to try and memorise how he got to it without falling over and decapitating himself and partly to look back at Ryan. He’d rolled over again.

Brendon sighed to himself and flicked the light off, sucking in a breath as he was suddenly very incapable of seeing any obstacles.

“We should move stuff tomorrow.” Brendon said as he stumbled back towards the bed, his shin hitting the chair and his foot getting caught in one of the floor’s decorative sheets.

Ryan hummed and Brendon sat down on the mattress, feeling around for his pillow.

He felt Ryan roll over as he lay down, his back facing him and his breathing slightly irregular.

“It’s cold.” He whispered, pulling the blankets up to his shoulder.

“Yeah.” Brendon whispered back, still lying on his back, probably taking up half of the bed.

Brendon sighed to himself and slowly rolled over, curling up and closing his eyes.

“Night.” He heard Ryan mumble.

“Good night.” 

It took a while to fall asleep that night, either because of new house jitters or the cold, he didn’t care. Ryan had ended up rolling over more, taking the blankets with him, so he pulled the sheets around him and curled up.

He would have held Ryan.  
He wanted to.

 

_Exhibit C_

It was the nicest flat around, Brendon couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t worthy of living there, with the glossy floors and thick walls he would have covered in posters if Ryan didn’t have a say.

Brendon had taken his shoes off, sliding around on his socks as Ryan directed the two men into their room.

It was such a nice mattress.

Ryan had the cash to get it delivered, so he did. 

“Brendon, come upstairs!” Ryan had yelled as soon as the two men had left, fixing their professional looking caps and grinning at each other. 

And Brendon did, and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

He felt old, getting over excited about boring adulty things, but it was such a nice mattress, how could he not get excited? 

He grinned, first at Ryan and then at the bed. He couldn’t help himself, he’d spent most of his independent life couch surfing and living in shitty apartments and sleeping on shitty beds. Now that they had money, they could treat themselves with a huge, comfy bed.

Brendon wrapped his arms around himself, he let himself be distracted momentarily by the nagging thought that he didn’t fling his arms around Ryan’s neck like he used to do when he was excited.

“I know right?” Ryan said, walking right past him to straighten up the covers, the expensive ones they’d splurged on.

Brendon nodded, watching Ryan as he sat down, wishing momentarily that they were back in a sleeping bag on the floor, back when he was allowed to hug Ryan.

He thought for a moment if Ryan would care if he touched him.

“I love you.” He whispered, taking a small step towards the bed.

Ryan hummed and looked up, Brendon shook his head.

“Nothing.” he lied, sitting on the end of the bed.

Ryan looked thoughtful, he shuffled further onto the bed, fiddling with his laces as he took his shoes off. “You know?”

“Yeah?” Brendon turned his head back to look at him.

“I’ll probably still roll around. All the money in the world won’t buy a bed big enough to stop me from rolling into you at night.”

Brendon nodded again and turned back to staring at the wall, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his foot.

“Is it time for bed?” Brendon asked, “I mean we both have work early tomorrow and I don’t want to miss the train.” 

“I guess.” Ryan said, standing up, “Want a drink first?”

“Sure.” 

Brendon stood up too, following Ryan downstairs to the kitchen, his feet sliding slightly on the floor.

He sat down at the counter, they’d gotten bar stools to go with the high benchtops they had now. He watched Ryan as he dug around in the fridge, grabbing the cheap bottle of wine they’d been given as a housewarming gift.

Ryan gave him a small smile from over his shoulder as he grabbed two glasses, filling them both halfway.

“Cheers?” Brendon asked, holding his glass up.

“To what?” Ryan cocked an eyebrow.

“To a new bed?” 

“To a new bed.”

Clink.

 

_Exhibit D_

Brendon was cold.

Brendon was always cold.

Even when the blankets were pulled all the way up to his shoulder and when Ryan was rolled onto his side and the heater was on high, he was still cold.

Ryan was cold too.

 

Brendon sat on the side of the bed, looking at his hands and his glasses. He could feel his prescription getting weaker on him, but he didn’t want to waste time going out and buying new ones if these ones were doing just fine.

“Go to bed.” he heard Ryan whisper from beside him, he couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, Ryan always whispered these days.

Brendon placed his glasses on the table with shaky hands and slowly but surely lay down. He rolled over as Ryan turned out the lights.

“Good night.” He whispered.

Ryan didn’t whisper back.

Brendon didn’t care why anymore.

 

_Exhibit E_

Brendon had never been one for lavish funerals, but he liked gravestones.

They’d gotten the nice, expensive ones under the cherry tree, two bodies lying side by side, the same way they had been all their life. 

If Brendon had believed in ghosts, he’d of finally asked Ryan what had been wrong, why he didn’t smile anymore and why they didn’t love each other.

And then Ryan would have told him.

 

If he’d only asked.


End file.
